


Lightning, Grounded

by Lauren (notalwaysweak)



Category: Emelan - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/M, Yuletide 2012
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 21:50:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalwaysweak/pseuds/Lauren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PWP. Tris/Briar, power games and smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lightning, Grounded

**Author's Note:**

  * For [grim_lupine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/grim_lupine/gifts).



> Tamora Pierce's characters don't belong to me and I am making no money off this work of fan fiction. Just an extra Yuletide treat! Happy Yuletide grim_lupine!

“You’re going to frustrate me so much my hair will go straight one of these days, you know,” Tris said.

Briar nuzzled against the copper curls in question – and not the ones neatly plaited atop her head, either – before returning to what he was doing with his mouth pressed tight against her wet heat, tongue flicking expertly over the little hard point that was currently the center of both their attention.

Much as Tris was trying to deny it.

It was a game – their game. Born out of one night when they’d run into each other out of pure chance, had to share a room at an inn, also by pure chance, and had decided to share a bed, out of desire rather than necessity. It had started with teasing kisses and ended with Briar spending himself in Tris and Tris clawing at his back as she arched against him.

She wasn’t doing any clawing tonight. Briar had made certain of that, securing her wrists to the bedposts with strong silk cords.

“I thought Sandry was supposed to be the stitch-witch,” Tris had grumbled, giving her true thoughts away with only a gasp as each knot pulled tight against her skin.

“Sandry wouldn’t do this to you,” Briar had replied before kissing her, dropping light kisses all over her face, saving her mouth for last – by which time she was desperate for the touch of his lips on hers, although she was trying not to show it.

That was the game.

They’d wondered after the first time whether the other two had been aware of what had happened. It turned out that Daja and Sandry simply assumed the two of them had had a heated argument. Well, “heated” was the right word, even if “argument” wasn’t.

Since then there had been at least a dozen such encounters, and the stakes had risen each time, until their present situation: Tris bound to the bed, striving for the prickliness of her youth, softened now that they were in their mid-twenties, and Briar doing his best to torment her in a far different way than when they were young.

“Briar, I—” Tris bit off the end of the sentence and struggled to keep her hips from rising off the bed.

Briar brought one hand up between her legs and teased at her entrance with a fingertip. He knew full well that the combination of his mouth and his fingers would send her over the edge, but there was something about seeing his friend coming undone in this particular way, losing her mind instead of her temper, that was very, very appealing. Her knuckles were white where her hands were fisted up, as opposed to her face and chest, which were flushed red. She had her eyes shut for the moment, struggling against the wave of desire threatening to take her.

Briar slid his finger into her and crooked it in a come-hither gesture, finding that elusive spot inside her that made her go wild, and pressed his mouth to her heated flesh again, sucking on that hard little nub and flicking it with his tongue, until Tris cried out wordlessly, and bucked against his lips and tongue. Taking advantage of her weakened state, Briar hastily slipped a second finger into her and worked them in and out, bringing her off a second time right on the heels of the first one.

Daja and Sandry probably didn’t think they were arguing any more, these days.

“Stop, Briar, stop, I need to breathe.”

Briar wriggled up the bed and took the time to strip his trousers off while Tris regained her breath, if not her composure. She was still quite pink-cheeked when he started drawing little circles on her skin with his fingertip around the areola of one nipple, making it pebble up. He licked it and then blew a soft breath over it, and Tris squirmed.

“I swear I’ll strike you down with lightning the next time you do that.”

So Briar did it again, and all Tris could do was writhe in her bonds and growl at him, not very convincingly. She certainly parted her thighs for him readily enough when he rolled atop her, although he held off entering her for a moment, checking her bonds to make certain they weren’t too tight, until she bit his shoulder and glared at him.

Slipping into her heat was always somehow sweet and he loved the look she got on her face when he did it; the harder lines of her mouth and eyes relaxed as he fitted into her and he always held still a few moments for both of them to get used to each other all over again. Briar didn’t know if she had other lovers between the times that they met and didn’t much care. On these nights she was always his and his alone.

He began moving within her and Tris furrowed her brows still trying, even after coming twice, to pretend that she was perfectly under control. Her body gave her away, though, hips jerking up against his every so often. Briar reached up and untied one wrist and Tris’s hand immediately went to the back of his neck, pulling him down into a greedy kiss. For someone who complained so much about her own hair, she certainly seemed fond of his; she tangled her fingers through his dark curls and kissed him until they were both breathless. When he freed her other hand she wrapped it around his waist and then hooked her ankles behind his knees.

“Got you,” she said smugly.

“And what do you plan on doing with me, exactly?”

“Just this.” She rolled her hips up against him and Briar pushed back against her, resting his forehead against hers. Her hair made a copper halo on the pillow and his own dark hair brushed against her face until she made an exasperated noise and pushed it away, gathering it into a handful which she held at the nape of his neck.

They finished together, or as close as they could; it seemed to be a side effect of the connection between them that when one of them came close the other was pushed that much closer to the edge as well. Briar was reduced to whispering, “Oh, Tris,” against her lips, unable to come up with anything quick-witted to say in the depths of desire, and Tris said nothing at all but just cried out without words.

After cleaning up, Tris got up, still naked, and padded to the window, opening it. Chime flew in, scolding her for shutting the little dragon outside for so long. Tris undid one of her braids a little way and lightning flashed on the horizon.

“That should take care of the need for a little rain around here.”

“I noticed the earth was dry. Thanks.”

Tris smiled briefly. “It’s what I do.”

The two of them didn’t bother with nightclothes, curling around each other bare in the big bed, and drifted off to sleep to the sound of the distant rumble of thunder and the soft patter of rain on the ground outside.


End file.
